Conquest
by Syunikiss Mizer
Summary: Destination: Katanashima, Island of the Swords. Heaven for the Strawhat's Swordsman. Until he finds himself enmeshed in a tournament for the right to fight the island's best swordsman-the King's oldest daughter for her hand in marriage. Zoro x Robin.
1. Strawhat PreDocking

**Summary: **He can't keep her blue eyes out of his head. The Demon's Child. And so when the Strawhats dock at a friendly island to restock, to the ship's swordsman, it seems like he couldn't have landed in a better place in a better time; it's a perfect distraction. The island is called, "Katanashima": the Island of the Swords and the Strawhats find themselves in the midst of a sword-wielding, fight-thirsty culture in the middle of their annual celebration—a swordfighting tournament which lasts months and whose winner gains the right to fight the best swordsman of the island—the heir of the wealthy monarchs of the kingdom, trained in the art of the sword since four, and a true beauty— for the best swordsman in the kingdom is the King's oldest daughter, the princess. If this last battle is won, then the victor gains the right to have the royal hand in marriage and the vast riches and power of her throne. If the battle is lost, the suitor loses his life. And the Sunny's swordsman finds himself enmeshed in this very tournament. A tale of love, of heartbreak, of victory and friendship.

Info: Zoro x Robin, _slight_ Zoro x OC. IU, post-Thriller Bark, pre-Sabaody. Nakamaship, romance. T+ (_slight_ smut). _Slight_ Sanji x Nami.

**Conquest **

_A fanfiction by Syunikiss Mizer_

**Chapter 1 **

_Strawhat Pre-Docking _

Demon's child. Any other man would have recoiled from the temerity of the name. Any other man would have shaken his head and refused to contemplate further. Any other man would have taken a look at the amount on the bounty and felt the creeping crawl of his scrotum retreating into his belly.

To be immodest, to be blunt, to be outrageously uncouth and brutally frank—he was not any other man.

He was the bounty head, Roronoa Zoro. He was the bad boy on the Sunny Go—a ship which held quite a few bad personages itself. And maybe it was his addiction to adrenaline, his thirst for the best, the biggest, the strongest, that made that name make the gooseflesh ripple across his forearms and back in a way which was not unpleasant.

Demon's child. Bounty of eighty thousand belli when she was but eight years old. They had never found out her story when they had snatched her from Hell's jaws, it had not been necessary to know. Yet, he had developed a strange, unquiet interest in the woman and her origins. It was starting to get so that Zoro was beginning to lose sleep over the issue—something which had never happened to him before in his nineteen years of hectic existence.

And that is why he was still awake on a lovely summer midday. It was hot enough so that he was lazily stretched out on the grass, back against the wooden planks, arms behind his head, happy to be in his short-sleeved white shirt and enjoying the occasional breeze of sea foam. But it wasn't hot enough to be the devil's anus if that made any kind of vulgar sense.

He should have been sleeping, should have been quietly nodding, keeping tabs on the crew's activity subconsciously. But instead, he was sitting here, pretending to be under the spell of the sandman, thinking of flowers and blue eyes which were wide and shadowed by long, fringed eyelashes.

It wasn't that he feared another betrayal or that he was still suspicious of the archeologist's motives—it wasn't that at all. He didn't know _what_ it was. It was like a bug had bitten him and he couldn't keep the itch out of his head no matter how much he scratched.

The sounds of the Sunny Go surrounded him. He could hear the sounds of Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy fishing. They were squabbling and telling tales, none true, and causing a generous ruckus. Could hear the sounds of pots and pans and grinding blenders from the kitchen as they floated out the open door. The sound of crinkling newspaper as Nami read the _Grand Line Times_ in her wicker lawn chair. He could hear even the soft, delicate clinking of ice in her tropical drink as she sipped it. Brooke's violin sang from the back of the ship, playful and lively. Franky and Robin were the most subtle.

The archeologist was reading near Nami and the only sounds she emitted were those of the occasional page turn and the soft thump of her sandaled foot on the grass as she tapped the ground casually. And a thumping, more a vibration then a sound, reverberated occasionally through the deck as Franky tinkered on something or other in the vast bowels of the Sunny Go.

He should be sleeping. He _should_ be. The day was warm, it had that lazy heat which forced one's eyelids to droop down and settle over glazed eyes. The brooding, lugubrious shadows of Thriller Bark and the Florian Triangle had been left behind forever and sleep was once again what it should have been—filled with nonsensical, light dreams and not with nightmares of dark doppelgangers and pointy teeth.

But all that filled his head were questions and musings of the darkhaired beauty which had been the seventh addition to their colorful crew. She was all of a mystery and then some; and Zoro couldn't quite wrap his mind around her enigma. There was a strange interest he couldn't explain, couldn't detach himself from.

"Zoro!"

He heard Nami call his name through the blackness and he grunted, letting her know he was listening.

"Can you go tell Sanji-kun that I need a refill on my Coconut-Honeydew Melon-Pineapple Margarita Mix?" Her voice was coy, slightly cozening, sweet to the point that his teeth ached. It's the navigator's way of trying to get him to follow her every command. He didn't want to get something thrown at him so he obeyed—kind of.

"Oi Cook! Nami needs a drink!"

The blond cook rushed out of the kitchen, large platter in hand, singing the women's praises. "Nami~ I heard that you need a cool drink made from an experienced hand to quench your thirst—allow me to present you with a wonderful concoction, my own creation—Tangerine Delight!"

The navigator squealed and kissed Sanji's cheek, "That sounds absolutely _wonderful_ Sanji-kun! Did you use Bellemere's tangerines? I'm happy but that will still cost you five hundred belli per tangerine."

"Of course Nami-swan," the blond cook twirled and handed the two reclining women their drinks which were a bright, poignant orange the exact color of Nami's hair.

Already the infamous, bumbling trio were clamoring for drinks and of course, for snacks. Sanji handed them their glasses and beat them back as they attempted to take the last two glasses.

"Hey, Cook, pass one over here," Zoro called out, holding out a hand. "That looks good."

"Everything I make is good, fool," Sanji snorted, but tossed him a glass, the one that was slightly thicker and wider than the other one, "I made it Zoro-style. Couple shots of Gold Roger Rum. Just the way you like it, right?"

"Perfect," he said, and grinned before taking a heavy swig.

"Cook-san," Robin called out, her voice trailing up in a question.

"Yes, Robin-chan?"

"Can I get some shots of Rum in mine as well? I like the tang of the Lady Alvida Champagne you put in here, but I fear it's not strong enough for my tastes."

Zoro raised an eyebrow as Robin held up her glass and Nami giggled.

"Of course, Robin-chan," the cook purred, taking her glass, "I'm sorry—I thought you didn't want a truly alcoholic drink—that's Zoro's thing."

"No harm Cook-san," Robin smiled, "I just feel like taking something a little more fierce today."

"Right away, princess," the cook walked off, hand in his pocket, smiling, "I find it absolutely adorable that you like your liquor. My old man always said it was the pretty ones who could drink a pirate to shame. Hell, remember Whiskey Peak, Nami? Zoro was out when you were just barely getting started!"

"Ah, I remember that!"

"Oi Cook! If I remember correctly _you_ were the one who passed out the whole night while I saved your sorry lives!" He snapped, "I was the only one who actually realized something was wrong—that placed was a viper's den of bounty hunters."

"Whiskey Peak? Was that the place where we met Vivi's guardian?" Usopp butted in, eyebrows lifted, "The place with a whole bunch of graves and where we thought it was a 'Pirate Welcoming' island?"

Robin closed her book quietly down and got up. She walked off, her exit so subtle and inconspicuous that Nami didn't even mention it, but continued to read her newspaper and listen to Usopp with half an ear.

"Yes, longnose, that's where we met Vivi," she remarked, her voice filled with cheerful remembrance, "That island was dirt-poor. I only found a few bronze coins when I searched it! Good thing I blackmailed Igaram." Her face darkened, "But I had to give it all up for Vivi's sake, my billion belli—"

"_You're still on about that!" _

Zoro got up and slipped out after Robin, leaving in the tumult of Usopp and Nami squabbling. He found the archaeologist leaning against one of the side railings, face turned to the breeze, black hair floating it out around her head.

She didn't turn to watch his approach and he approached, hesitant.

"Uncomfortable still?"

"That princess was your dear friend, was she not?" Robin replied calmly, not turning, "And I was the enemy. I supposedly murdered her guardian, the Captain of the Royal Guard, Igaram, that day that you docked at Whiskey Peak. I helped Sir Crocodile destroy Arabasta. I helped plan Operation Utopia. I recruited the Baroque Works agents. I defeated Pell in battle and subdued the Princess when she put up resistance to me—"

"That's all in the past," he cut in, bluntly, "That's over with, you shouldn't think that way. I was a bounty hunter before I joined Luffy and I didn't even want to join him—"

"But you never actively sought to destroy a good, healthy kingdom, filled with innocent civilians. You never actively fought against your nakama," Robin turned toward him, her eyes dark, "it will always be uncomfortable for me to remember my role in Arabasta and my allegiance to Crocodile. And that is my cross to bear; I cannot change it, not even by attempting to justify it by saying that it is history. History happened—it cannot be repeated, changed, or excused. It is what it is. No more no less."

Zoro didn't know what to say to that, so he simply said, "Whatever happened—none of us hold it against you. That's all I was trying to say." He walked off, mind buzzing. He had never heard her talk so much in a long while. And all through it he had stood, intoxicated in a way that the strongest rum would never be able to make him.

Of course it was uncomfortable for her to hear her nakama talk of their friend, a friend that she had tried her very best to strip of her kingdom for whatever reasons. But that didn't mean that she should kill herself every time Vivi was brought up and torture herself over facts that she couldn't control.

He rubbed the back of his head in exasperation, his feet taking him back to the grassy deck where he could hear Nami berating Usopp for bringing up Whiskey peak (even though it had actually been Sanji who had first touched upon that particular subject). It seemed like the navigator, no idiot herself, had quickly caught on to her nakama's absence and the reason for.

Nami's eyes immediately targeted him as he rounded the bend and walked out onto the grassy deck, "Is she fine?"

"Ashamed," he said, shrugging, "I tried to make her see reason, but she thinks it's all her fault."

Nami sighed, "I'll talk to her later. When we reach the island, so we can talk in peace."

"Island?"

"Didn't you feel the spring breeze moments ago? We entered a spring island's climate zone. We should be there before the night ends," Nami shrugged and settled into her lawn chair, "And we'll probably either find a pirate once thought deceased, a warlord attempting to take over a small country, or some trace of Gold Roger, watch."

He laughed, "Are we getting that predictable?"

"Just another day in the life of the Strawhat pirates," Nami said, burying herself back in the newspaper, "Now, leave me alone, I'm busy."

"Hey Nami! We should buy some bronze so that Franky can make a statue!"

"_No."_

Zoro wandered off, looking for a comfortable spot to pretend that he was sleeping.


	2. Arrival on the Island of the Swords

**Chapter 2 **

Arrival on the Island of the Sword

XX

The long, wooden ports stretched out into the blue-green waters and Franky had no trouble maneuvering alongside one and dropping the anchor down so that Sunny's movement slowed until it had completely stopped.

Nami frowned from where she had been supervising the blue-haired engineer, "Damn. This was the closest we could get to the harbor proper. This island sure has a busy port life. They probably have an active shipping business."

The cook lit up one of her ever-present cigarettes and blew the plume of smoke across the waters, "It looks like there are more ships arriving then leaving Nami-san. And quite a few are carrying the skull and crossbones." He gestured to the ships which were lined up alongside the Sunny Go at their own ports and Zoro, glancing in the direction, noted that the great majority did indeed have black sails or a distinctive figurehead that was so ostentatious that it just _had_ to belong to a pirate.

"There aren't any marine ships either," he commented, holding up his hand to shade his eyes and narrowing his eyes as he glanced across the busy harbor. "Looks like fun."

The navigator was immediately on him, "_Zoro!_ Okay, you three—" she turned on Luffy and Sanji, "I want you three to promise me that you won't get in trouble—no _fighting!" _

Luffy pulled a face, "Aw, Nami, come on—"

"_Hey! Hey! You there!" _

The voice came from below and Nami, clamping a hand on Luffy's mouth, stalked to the edge and peered down. The rest of the crew joined her.

"Yes?" she called down, prettily enough.

It was a man wearing only shorts and combat boots. His hair was a subdued shade of blue and his meaty torso was covered in tattoos and scars. At his hip there was a sword. Along and lethal-looking katana. Zoro's eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the figures and details of the hilt, but the man was too far away.

The man smiled, "Welcome to the Island of the Swords! Are you planning on disembarking?"

"Yes—we want to stock up on some supplies, stretch our legs a bit," Nami called back, her eyes wary.

"Well, I'll have to ask you to pay the port fee," the man said, holding up a hand in apology, "It's 2000 belli per ship. Don't pay—can't land."

Nami's eyebrow twitched but she smiled, "Of course—I'll give you the money as soon as I get down there."

"Oye!" Zoro called down as the crew dispersed to get ready to disembark, "You said this was the 'Island of the Swords.'?"

The man turned to him, "Yah. I assume you've never heard of us—Pirate Hunter?"

He stiffened at the forward use of his title, "No."

The bluehaired man laughed, "No need to look so angry. The Strawhats are famous. I recognized your crossbones as soon as I saw 'em. And this citizens of this Island know their swordsmen—famous or not." He paused, "But since I know who you are—it's only fair that we exchange names. Call me Molotov."

"Pleased to meet you."

Molotov shrugged, "The pleasure's all mine. This is quite a famous place in the Grand Line, but we still usually only get someone as famous as you once in a blue moon."

Zoro leaned out on the railing, eyebrow raised, "What _exactly_ is this place? Island of the—?"

"Swords," Molotov laughed again, "The name caught your attention, eh? It's exactly what it sounds like. We're an island that makes the art of the sword our life profession. You'll find everything you'd ever want pertaining to swords here."

Luffy rushed past him and vaulted over the railing, laughing happily. He landed with a slight thump on the wooden dock and straightened up to look at Molotov, "Ah! Smells like adventure—hey—who are you?"

"Hey! Wait up Luffy!" Usopp and Chopper were struggling with the rope ladder and seconds later, managed to throw it down and started to climb it. Nami soon followed, carrying a considerable money sack and a small backpack.

"The name's Molotov," the bluehaired man repeated, smiling, "I'm one of the Port Guides this time of year."

"Why are you covered in tattoos?" Luffy demanded, scratching his head, "You look funny."

"Luffy, shut up!" Nami bulldozed him to the side and opening the money sack, rifled through it and handed Molotov a stack of bills, "There. Port fee or whatever it is."

Molotov counted it and frowned, "There's only $1700 here."

The navigator opened her eyes wide innocently, "Oh! I'm sorry—here—" and muttering underneath her breath, forked over the remaining 300 belli. "Why is there a port fee anyway? This is the first island we've come to that we've had to pay _anything_ to land."

"Except Sky Island," Robin cut in smoothly as she descended the rope ladder. A large sun hat obscured her face, "That cost 1 million belli to enter, remember?"

Again, Molotov looked chagrined, "We usually don't collect fees—Katanashima usually considers itself a hospitable island—but as you can see, we're very busy this time of year. The harbor's nearly full."

Zoro paused from where he was climbing down the ladder and glanced again across the waters at the ships at dock. There must be at least fifty ships on this side of the island. Why so many? Sanji's foot kicked him lightly in the head.

"Hurry up Marimo."

He continued climbing down after shooting the cook's butt an annoyed look.

"I would have thought you guys knew about our island but it seems that you don't—from what I could tell speaking to your swordsman," Molotov shrugged.

"Hmm…" Robin scratched her chin thoughtfully, "It _is _around that time of year again. Preparations for the Quartz Gala must just be finishing—and the contestants arriving."

Molotov lit up, "Yes, exactly! Leave it to Nico Robin to know! They say you are a fiercely intelligent lady—and now I see that those aren't just rumors. Your intelligence matches your beauty, lady." He flashed a swarthy grin at Robin, who just chuckled and waved a hand casually.

"What Robin?" Zoro asked, walking toward her, "I'm getting lost."

"You're_ always _getting lost," Sanji jibed from behind him before floating to Nami's side.

Before Robin could answer, Luffy butted in, a look of supreme boredom stamped across his features, "Who cares about that? I want to go see what this island's like guys! Move, you!" He made to brush past Molotov.

The bluehaired man snagged the back of the Captain's shirt, "Whoa, whoa—not so fast. I'll let you guys go in a minute." He pulled from his pocket a folded piece of paper and pen. "All right. Your ship has docked at Port 29. Pirates—from what I can tell from the flag—Strawhat Pirates?"

"Yeah!" Luffy puffed out his chest.

"Right," Molotov wrote it down, "Members?"

"Eight," Nami put in. "Why does it matter?"

"We like to keep tabs on who disembarks," Molotov explained, "With all these pirates running around, wreaking havoc—it's good to stay organized. Swordsmen?"

Nami raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Two," Zoro interjected, crossing his arms over his chest. "Me and Brooke here."

The gentleman skeleton doffed his tophat and bowed, "Charmed."

"All right, that's all," Molotov tucked the paper back in, "We have some harbor security but it's not fantastic so I suggest you keep an eye on your ship whenever you can. There are a lot of pirates here. You're free to use Port 29 as long as you like—but if you set sail then the port's open to anyone else the minute you leave it free—and you'll have to pay again to disembark. Have a good time on Katanashima, we welcome you." He bowed and stepped pointedly out of the way.

Luffy was off at roughly three hundred miles per hour, heedless of Nami's cries. Usopp, Chopper, and Brooke soon followed their captain, hallooing loudly, grins plastered across their faces.

"…Idiots," Nami muttered and turned back to Molotov. "What exactly is this—thing?"

"Quartz Gala," Molotov turned and motioned for them to follow him down the long, wooden port, "It's a festival of sorts. A tournament to be exact."

"Oi, bros! I'll stay with the Sunny until you come back!" Franky called, climbing back up the rope ladder, "I'll refill the Cola engines while you're gone!"

"Thanks Franky!" Sanji called back, raising a hand.

"Ohhh—I get it. A sword fighting competition," the navigator shrugged and immediately looked disinterested, "This is your thing Zoro."

He nodded and dropped into line with the bluehaired man, "Is—"

Molotov stopped abruptly and peered down the busy pier, "Looks like we have another docking. Large galleon, too." He turned back the remaining member of the crew with a look of apology, "Sorry, but I'll have to head off and make sure they don't land without paying." He glanced at Zoro, "If you're interested in the Quartz gala, you can get all the information you want from around the island—or have your lovely friend explain it to you." He smiled at Robin. "But I have to go now."

"Wait, one question Molotov—" Nami started, holding her hand up.

"Yes, m'lady?" Molotov paused.

"How long does it take for the Log to adapt?" Nami glanced at the compass on her wrist, "It looks—"

"—like it's already adapted?" Molotov grinned, "That's right, m'lady. The island is vastly rich in metals—its from what we make the finest swords and weapons of the Grand Line. The Log has no problem adapting itself in accordance to the sheer amount of minerals. It takes a few minutes, at most. You're free to leave anytime you want."

And with that, the burly swordsman was off, jogging to where the new galleon has already anchored.

"Strange guy," Sanji muttered, "But I've noticed that it's more of a swordsmen thing."

Zoro scoffed, "Curly eyebrow."

"_Oye! What did—" _

"_Anyway!"_ Nami interrupted loudly, "I don't want _any_ of you to make trouble on this island. Zoro—join that tournament or whatever if you want—"

"Don't plan too," he grunted, "I have no interest in gaining titles in some obscure country."

Nami shrugged, "Then do what you want. We'll probably stay here for a week to restock. Robin?"

"Yes Nami-san?"

"Would you like to come with me to go shopping?" the orangehaired girl asked cheerfully, and the archeologist smiled and nodded.

"I'll go shopping for ingredients then," Sanji put in as they reached the outskirts of the city proper. He cast eyes around the way, watching the several dozens of milling people—many wearing sashes with pistols or daggers thrust inside or long, dirty Captain's cloaks—with suspicion. "But I'll accompany you ladies to wherever you're going first. And you marimo?"

"I'll walk a bit—see about this Island of the Swords," he replied, scratching the back of his head, "I'm getting a weird feeling about this island."

XX

The Island of the Swords indeed lived up to its name. There were _katana _shops by the dozens. General weapons shops, shops which sold broadswords, cutlasses, sabers, rapiers, daggers, lances. There were swords that sold hilts and sheaths. Stores which contained themselves to sell only _haramakis_—in all colors, sizes, shapes, and _scents._

There were shops which sold polishing supplies. There were _dojos _beyond number. Even the little children carried wooden _bokin_ as they ran around the streets, laughing and play-dueling.

At first Zoro thought that he'd be recognized instantly as he walked along the Sword Island's streets—his wanted poster had traveled the globe these past few weeks and must be even more well known in this island which honored swordsmen. Molotov had recognized him instantly.

But he soon realized that he was safe from prying eyes, even if he did have his three _katana_ strapped to his waist. There were a lot of pirate-hunter _imitators_ it seemed. He was very popular here. On his walk around the city, he saw at least three other _Pirate Hunters_, carrying three swords and wearing exactly what he was. It was rather amusing in fact.

It had been a few hours since he had left the others and the sun was at its zenith. The noon was hot and enthusiastic and Zoro felt the first beads of sweat break out on his forehead and between his shoulderblades.

"_Yes, exactly! Leave it to Nico Robin to know! They say you are a fiercely intelligent lady—and now I see that those aren't just rumors. Your intelligence matches your beauty, lady…"_

He could hear Molotov's voice inside of his head, see his smile in his mind's eye. The man had said—upon five minutes of ever _meeting _Robin, exactly what he had been wanting to tell her for little over a month now. It made him feel—like the piece of used gum on the sidewalk. Was it really so hard to say something like that to a woman?

Zoro glanced up the street and saw what looked to be a small bar to the side of the street and he made for it with an expression of relief. A good beer—a foaming mug of Gold Roger Rum with a white foamhead overtop amber liquid—would do him good at the moment. He glanced at the sign above before he entered. It was _The Bloody ol' Cutlass_. Classy.

A bell jingled as he entered and he raised a hand to the bartender, "Mug of ale. The classic, please."

The bartender nodded and filled up a large, wooden mug from a barrel on the counter, "Just got in, young un'?" His thick, hairy beard wobbled as he spoke, but the smile behind—which was shy a few teeth—was kind.

Zoro grunted assent and slid onto a stool at the bar, taking the mug with thanks, "Hot day."

"It'll cool down," the man said, wiping at the counter happily enough, "In time for the Quartz gala at least. Wouldn't do for over five-six thousand people to be dyin' o' the sunstroke in the stands while the swordsmen themselves pass out from the heat!" He chuckled.

Zoro drained half the ice-cold beer and smacked his lips in appreciation, "Ahhh—so what is this thing exactly? I've heard people talking—"

The man in the stool next to him and the bartender both exclaimed, "What! You don't know?"

The man next to him glanced at the bartender and then back at him, grinning, before sticking out a hand, "Call me Aleks. If you want a little history over this I'land, I'd be happy to be at your service, g'ntleman." His long black hair was tied up in a ponytail and a gold tooth twinkled from under his upper lip.

Zoro shook it, "Zoro."

Aleks snorted, "The real thing in the flesh then? I knew you looked a little too much like the wanted poster up there for you to be an imitator or an imposter." He said _imposter_ like someone would have said _murderer_ and pointed at a bounty poster that hung behind the bar. Zoro, following the direction of his finger was amused to see his own poster up there, along with other swordsmen such as Cabaji [whose he was glad to note, was hung up in the corner] and Silvers Rayleigh.

Aleks was still talking, "—well I'm glad I stopped by the _Bloody Cutlass_ for a spot of rum, then. I can tell my kids that I met the infamous Pirate Hunter, shook his hand, drank a beer together—"

He chuckled, and took another swig from his mug before handing it back to the bartender to refill, "These islanders know their swordsmen, eh?"

The man laughed, "We know 'em well. Even the tykes know who ya' are, Zoro."

The bartender passed him back his mug, "I knew it was ya' all along Zoro. Just too polite to point it out." He smirked, "They call me ol' Fob. And though it's Richardson to foreigners—you jes' go ahead an' call me ol' Fob."

"Do you plan on joining the Quartz Gala, then?" Aleks asked, grabbing a plate of fried shrimps from one of the serving maid's hands and placing it between them, "It's a swordsmanship tournament."

"I don't plan to," he said, taking some of the proffered food, "It's not my style."

Ol' Fob let out a rumbling sigh, "And, here I was, thinking that mebbe' we'd see that damn king eat his just deserts—"

"Hold, hold," Aleks placed a hand on Zoro's shoulder pleadingly, "Oi, you shouldn't refuse it before you know what it is."

"Tournaments are always the same," he answered, "Battles—the winner takes prestige, money, fame. I don't need to do that. I'm only after one man."

Ol' Fob chuckled, "I'm liking you more and more Pirate Hunter, but I advise you to think it over. The Quartz Gala is like nothing you've ever seen before. Up to a thousand swordsmen compete. It's a classic one on one-tier complex competition style."

Aleks cut in, "Except there's a twist. Every swordsmen goes into the Quartz Gala knowing full well to expect. Even if they win every single battle—they still can lose everything."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't sound like a prize to me."

"That's because the winner's prize isn't money or fame—it's the right to fight _another _battle."

He stopped eating the shrimp and looked up, surprised.

Aleks was grinning, "And if the winner wins _that_ battle—_then_ the main prize is given. And _that's_ what everyone is after. The winner weds the King's daughter—the eldest princess—and so takes up the mantle of the King for he's just waiting to retire—they win the entire kingdom! The riches, the wealth, the power—and of course, becomes renowned throughout the Grand Line."

Zoro was silent, mind digesting the rush of information. He still had misgivings about the tournament—it would involve countless battles and weeks of time—but he would be lying if he said that the idea had begun to appeal to him. It had begun to glimmer in his mind. To win would be easy, it would just be a matter of time. And the riches and spoils he could bring back to the Sunny in triumph. They would need money to coat their ship at the Saobady, Franky had warned them.

And also—he would feel worthy to tell _her_ that she was beautiful and intelligent. He knew he was worthy already, but it didn't feel that way. But, coming back from winning this grandiose tournament, massive treasure chests ready to be loaded onto the Sunny—he could take her aside and tell it to her face. That he had forsaken a princess for her, that he had gained a kingdom and then thrown it aside to please her. Much like a bird would bring back bits of shiny tinfoil or the occasional clear-glass marble, so he contemplated on bringing back to Nico Robin a bouquet she could not possibly refuse.

"So…you just have to beat this last swordsmen to win it all?" he asked, mind already ticking away.

Fob beamed from behind his thick beard, "Interested are we? That's a good fellow! Yes, beat the Princess and win it all."

Aleks cut in, the smile gone, "But if you lose—you forfeit your life."

Zoro didn't even flinch, "I'm not going to lose. I never lose, not anymore. Remember that."

Fob clapped briefly, "I believe we're sitting with our future king, Aleks!"

He held his mug out for more beer, "Who's the last swordsmen—the best one?"

"Didn't you hear man?" Fob answered, filling up, "The princess herself! Her Majesty's Eldest daughter—trained in the art of the sword since she was four, a true, stunning beauty—takes after the Queen you see—and the best swordsman the Island has ever seen!"

Zoro paused in his drinking to blink once, "A woman?"

Memories seeped into his mind, uncalled for. A young, bluehaired girl who had handled her sword like a living extension of herself, whom he had never beaten. Kuina, swordmaster's daughter. Dead before she could become a master herself. It seemed that he would see her wherever he went. First in the Police Sergeant in Lougetown, and now—this.

Aleks nodded, "Surprising, eh? Legend has it that the King had set his heart on a male child when the Queen was pregnant with child and that he planned out the little's one life to follow in the footsteps of the King—as a swordsmen without equal. But what came out of the good Queen's belly turned out to be a _her_ and not a _him." _

"But the King had put too much love and effort into that unborn child to not love it to death when it came out," Fob continued as Aleks took a swig, "He trained that lil' girl into one ruthless fighting machine—made her a swordsman a cut above all the men on the island, trained her with every weapon, every style."

Aleks nodded, "The King had two other daughters before the Queen became barren—so now he either has to pass the Kingdom onto his daughter or marry her off to some pansy of royal blood. But our constitution has it so that there must be a King—a King and a Queen. Not just a Queen and not just a King."

"And that's where we've been having this Quartz Gala for the last three years," Fob said, shrugging, "The King wants only the best swordsman for his precious daughter. He said that if they can't beat his daughter in battle—they're not fit to run the kingdom. And of course—no one yet has had a chance against an arm that's been trained to use the _katana_ by the best of the best."

Zoro spun his mug around, shoulders hunched as he leaned on the bar, "And they kill you if you lose to her?"

"Sort of," Aleks said, "They ask the man to commit _Hara Kiri._ And usually they do; if not—they live in shame. The King issued that decree after the first tournament. He said it was to winnow the true men from the reckless blowhards. "Only a man who can put aside his life and cast himself into the struggle deserves to win—or to even be considered to wed my daughter." Those were his exact words, Pirate Hunter."

Zoro nodded and asked suddenly, "And if you don't want her—the princess? If I win can I just take the treasure—"

Both the men roared with laughter and Aleks even clapped Zoro on the back, "Why would you want that? I told you—no princess, no wedding. No wedding, no King. And such a slight—the King might be mad enough to order your death. Say Fob—this reminds me of—"

Fob grinned, "Mihawk."

He looked up fast, "Hawk-eye?"

"Aye," Fob agreed, "Two years ago, Mihawk came and won the tournament. Just like that." Fob snapped his thick fingers, "Defeated the princess , and though she was a good match for him—Mihawk is a different world. Everyone thought that the Warlord would marry her and everything would be finished. But he no more wanted her then he wanted the kingdom. The king was infuriated. Took the rejection as a personal insult."

"Worse," Aleks shrugged, "It was rumored that she fell deeply in love with the Warlord. The first man to get so near her." He sighed, "She fell sick after Mihawk left and though the King said it was from the exertion of the battle, everyone knew it was because she tried to take her own life after he left and failed."

If he had any other hesitations up until then, they had dissipated with the sound of Mihawk's name. If the yellow eyed swordsmen had done it, then he, Zoro, could do it too. It wasn't so much as a following of footsteps as it was a 'Anything you can do, I can do better'. Zoro stood up and cracked his neck, "I'm going to go find my nakama. Thank you for the information and the beer."

The two men nodded cheerfully and Aleks raised a hand in question, "It was a pleasure to meet you Roronoa—but I'm curious now—will we be getting the pleasure of seeing you compete in the Quartz Gala?"

"I haven't decided," he lied and turned toward the door.

Fob waved him goodbye, "Well, make sure to make up your mind before today. The last sign-up is today at eight in the evening down in the plaza central. We'll be there too, scoping the contestants so feel free to ask us anything."

Zoro nodded again and put up a hand in thanks before shouldering aside the batwing doors and exiting the bar. But even before his boots hit the cobblestoned street, and even before the sun warmed his tan skin; were the yellow, sharp eyes of the greatest swordsman in the world replaced by cool blue ones.

XX


End file.
